


still fighting it

by mychemicalclifford



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oblivious Michael, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mychemicalclifford/pseuds/mychemicalclifford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke locks eyes with him again and whispers, “I want you to do it.” </p><p>“Do what?” </p><p>Luke’s cheeks warm. “Take my virginity.” </p><p>Michael bursts out laughing. It sounds off to Luke’s ears and he thinks some part of Michael knows it isn’t a joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	still fighting it

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be a oneshot about Luke losing his virginity to Michael. Somehow it turned into this long, super emotional thing with a lot of deep talks between Luke and Michael, drunkenness, and some sex. 
> 
> Well, this takes place a couple months back, when the boys were writing/recording in LA. Enjoy!

Luke shivers as he steps down, his bare foot hitting the cold tile of the living room floor. He could go grab a pair of socks from his room, but as his eyes settle on the occupied sofa, he has a better idea. The whole room is dark, the bright lights of Los Angeles blocked out by the curtains drawn over the windows. The only source of light is coming from the television screen, casting a bluish glow over Michael’s body tucked into the sofa.

Luke pads over to him, his knee just barely avoiding knocking into the coffee table before he plops down on the leather seat. Immediately he curls his long legs into his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees for warmth. The air outside might be constantly thick with heat, but the inside of their LA home is ice cold.

Michael doesn’t seem to register his presence at all, his eyes still zeroed in on the video game displayed on the screen. “’M cold,” Luke murmurs. It’s mainly done as a warning, since he doesn’t think Michael would notice or care. At his silence, Luke takes the opportunity to stretch out on the rest of the sofa’s space, turning over on his side to get more comfortable. He inches over until his head is pillowed perfectly on Michael’s lap.

The older boy plays another round before he hits pause on his game. Then his hand comes down and starts carding through Luke’s thick blonde hair. Luke almost starts purring. “What’s wrong, Lukey?”

Luke fights back a yawn as he whispers, “You didn’t have to stop.”

Michael uses his free hand to set the game controller down. “Yeah I did. It’s 1am and you’re in my lap instead of sleeping. What’s up?”

Luke bites back his smile, turning his head until he’s facing Michael. The purple-haired boy knows him better than anyone. It was dumb to think Luke could hide anything from him. “Nothing. I just couldn’t fall asleep.”

Michael’s fingers keep sliding through his hair, threatening to make Luke’s eyes droop. He could fall asleep now, right here. “Why not?” Michael asks, tugging a bit when Luke doesn’t answer.

He knows Michael won’t drop it, now that he knows something is bothering Luke. He also knows Michael is a lot less likely to make fun of him when they’re alone like this, especially at this hour. Still he’s reluctant to talk about it. “It’s stupid,” Luke mumbles.

“Tell me anyway.”

When Luke stays quiet again, Michael starts strumming his fingers against Luke’s tummy. It makes him giggle at least. “Stop!” Luke whines through his smile. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

Luke bites at his lip ring, his smile wilting as he thinks back to a few hours ago. “Remember when we were at dinner at CPK and Cal was flirting with that girl?”

Michael snorts above him. “ _Trying_ to flirt you mean? Yeah, he struck out pretty bad and Ashton was comforting him.”

“Right.” Luke swallows thickly. “Then, um, you were teasing Cal about the last time he got laid…”

“Oh yeah!” Michael laughs as he remembers. Luke feels the rumble of it being so close to his chest. “And then Calum made that joke about getting _you_ laid first—Oh.”

Luke feels his cheeks flush hotly as Michael gets it. It’s one of the many running jokes of their band—Luke, the eighteen year old virgin. Most of the time Luke lets them have their laugh, knowing they’re teasing out of love. They give each other shit about everything; it’s just how their friendship works. Luke doesn’t let it bug him, usually.

But then there are times like tonight when it _does_ hurt him or make him uncomfortable. And then Luke is left with an uneasy feeling stirring his stomach and making it impossible for him to sleep. The only comfort Luke could think of is coming out here to be with Michael, knowing the older boy would have a way to take Luke’s mind off of it. Mikey might mock him worse than anybody else most days, but at times like this, when he really needs it, Michael is the person he trusts with his most private feelings.

“Fuck, Luke.” Luke looks up at him to see Michael frowning, his playfulness from earlier wiped away. “I didn’t know it bothered you that much. I’ll tell them to knock it off—”

“No, no!” Luke sits up, scooting into his own space on the sofa. “Don’t tell them. It’s okay, I was just being dumb.”

“You’re not.” Michael reassures him softly. “But I won’t say anything, I promise.”

Luke nods and Michael lets it go. Eventually Luke settles back against him, cuddling into Michael’s warm side as the older boy resumes his game. Despite getting his confession out and the time crawling closer to two in the morning, Luke’s body still isn’t ready to rest. Or rather, his mind is still running and alert. The tangle of troubled emotions has loosened inside his chest, but it’s not gone completely.

Sometimes Luke worries that there really is something wrong with him. Most boys his age would jump at the chance to have sex with any of the beautiful girls Luke has encountered in the past three years. But Luke just isn’t there. He doesn’t even feel on the same wavelength as his bandmates sometimes, totally oblivious to the girls trying to hit on him or not interested in the attractive ones Cal and Mikey can point out in a second. Luke wishes so bad that virginity wasn’t even a thing, that it didn’t have to be such a _big_ _deal_ to him to lose it. At all of the opportunities Luke has had in the past to have sex, he can never go through with it. It doesn’t feel right and even when he’s turned on and his body wants to, his heart always finds a way to confuse him.

“Mikey,” Luke whispers some time later. “There’s something else.”

“Hmm?” Michael hits pause on the game again and shifts to focus on him. “What is it?”

Luke definitely wasn’t planning on admitting this tonight—or ever, even. But looking into Michael’s pale green eyes anchors him, never failing to make him feel safe.  Luke can tell him this.

“I don’t think me trying to lose it is the problem,” Luke confesses in a quiet whisper. “I think it’s the person. Like…girls.”

The only sound then is Luke’s heartbeat hammering in his ears, pounding fear through his veins. It’s huge and terrifying and Luke wants to take it back, almost as much as he’s glad to say it out loud. It makes it real, but like this Luke can also drop it into Michael’s hands and not have to figure it out alone.

Michael’s expression stills, his eyes steady on Luke’s. “Are you gay?”

Luke is sure whatever his answer is, Michael won’t care. One of his favorite things about the other boy, really, is how he loves without conditions—loves his parents, his friends, their fans. Michael doesn’t ever judge him, especially for the things that matter. And he’s certain that Michael would rage absolute hell on anyone that dares to mock or hurt Luke in front of him.

“Maybe?” Luke admits softly. “I don’t know.”

“I can help you find out.” At Luke’s curious expression, Michael explains, “Like, if you really want to know. We can go out, find a guy for you to talk to. You can see if it’s different from when you’re talking to girls. Or the same, maybe.”

“Okay,” Luke answers. The idea isn’t so horrible and it’d be easier, with Michael there. “We can do that sometime.”

 

...

 

Luke knocks twice on the door, bouncing on his heels as he anxiously waits for Michael to answer. It’s been a few days since their mid-night conversation and Michael came through on his promise to help Luke out. They’re supposed to go out tonight, just the two of them, as Ashton and Calum have their own plans with Feldy. All day Luke’s stomach has been a flurry of nerves and excitement, but at the moment his nerves are definitely winning.

“Come in!” Michael shouts from the other side.

Luke pushes open the door and shuffles inside. “Hey, are you—”

He stops suddenly, his words cutting off at the sight before him. Distantly he hears the door click shut, but all of his focus is really on Michael then. The purple-haired boy has just emerged from the bathroom when Luke comes in, one hand busy drying his damp hair with a towel. He’s only wearing black plaid boxers. The rest of him is bare, skin lightly flushed from his shower with droplets of water escaping down his pale chest.

Luke has seen Michael naked before— _completely_ naked, probably more times than is healthy for their friendship. Still the image catches him off guard. It’s different than when he sees Calum or Ashton’s bodies, though Luke has never let himself think too hard about why that is. For one, he can’t tear his eyes away, even when the guilt nags him for staring at his bandmate’s body.

It’s like he’s hypnotized. His eyes trace over the miles of smooth, porcelain skin—knowing from experience just how soft and warm that skin feels under his fingertips. Luke takes in the soft swell of Michael’s stomach, his eyes following the trail of sparse, blonde hair that disappears into the waistband of his boxers.

Luke is still staring, his mouth hanging open like a total creep, when Michael starts yanking on a pair of black skinny jeans. “Hey. Sorry, I know we’re supposed to leave now, but I smelled like dirty feet or something so I had to shower.”

Michael laughs then, snapping Luke out of his gawking. God, what is wrong with him? “Oh good,” Luke says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as weird as he feels. “You stank but I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“Shut up.” Michael laughs, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

Smiling, Luke wonders over to Michael’s bed and drops down, leaning back against the pillows. The sheets smell just like him—Mikey’s cologne mixed with his natural, boyish scent. Luke knows Michael, Ashton and Calum’s scents better than his own, but Michael’s is the one that always reminded him most of _home_.

As Michael finishes getting dressed, Luke is tempted to close his eyes and breathe in the familiar smell as he remembers all those afternoons back in Sydney, spent lying in Michael’s bed just like this. Hours would go by with them not saying a single word, the only sound being an old Blink 182 playing on Mike’s iPod. They’d lie on their sides in Michael’s bed, listening through shared headphones. Sometimes Luke would mouth along to the words and Michael would kick him playfully in the leg. Though his jabs would turn to stroking his foot up and down Luke’s calf soon after, never wanting to actually hurt the blonde boy.

It makes his stomach ache to remember, so instead Luke pulls out his phone and scrolls through Twitter until the nostalgia fades from his gut. He determinedly keeps his eyes on the screen and not on his best friend’s body.

“Hey loser!” Michael pitches a dirty sock at his face. Luke quickly bats it away and glares unappreciatively at him. “Let’s go!”

Luke’s hesitations return full force when their car is parked in front of their location. He peers through the tinted glass at the club in front of them, the flashing neon lights and throng of strangers lined up at the entrance looking more intimidating by the second.

“This is a bad idea,” Luke mumbles.

Michael glances up from his phone, his pierced brow raised to show he’s unimpressed. Or unsympathetic. It’s a toss-up with Michael. “You’ve only visited every club in Sydney with Calum when we’re home. What’s wrong with this one?”

“This is different.” Luke snaps. His nervousness makes him cranky. He’s on the verge of strangling Michael for dragging him into this. “We should just go home.”

Michael snorts, definitely unsympathetic this time. “Why, so you can bitch at me for not letting you go through with it? Get your balls out of your pocket, Hemmings. We’re doing this.”

Michael tucks his phone away and opens the door, not bothering to check to see if Luke is following him when he gets out. Luke rolls his eyes and grudgingly slides out after him into the humid night.

As they’re walking towards the front entrance, Luke asks him, “You never go to clubs. How did you even find this one?”

Michael turns his head towards him, a lewd smirk curling his red lips up. “Harry. He took me here once when we were in L.A.”

He starts fishing out his ID from his pocket, missing the irritation that Luke can feel darkening his face. Luke has begged Michael hundreds of times to join him and Calum for their nights out and not _once_ did Michael ever give in. Yet all Harry Styles has to do is bat his stupid doe-eyes and Michael goes without complaint? _What the fuck._

Their IDs are checked and they’re permitted inside, greeted by a gust of cool air conditioning. Still feeling annoyed, Luke marches straight to the bar without looking back, more than ready for the alcohol in his system. Since neither Harry or Michael were legal for drinking here, Luke figures this isn’t a place that cards after you’re inside or the boys wouldn’t have bothered coming. He’s right and Luke orders himself a beer before Michael joins him.

“You’re not drinking a beer,” Michael tells him, as it the idea is ridiculous. Before Luke can argue, Michael flags down the bartender. “A Cock Tease and a Kamikaze.”

“Why’d you do that?” Luke frowns. “I don’t even like Vodka.”

“Beer isn’t sexy,” is all Michael responds.

Once they have their drinks, Luke looks to his best friend expectantly. “So what now?”

Michael takes his shot, his bright eyes scanning over the other patrons around them. The pulsing lights of the club gives his pale skin a reddish hue. “Now we find a hot guy for you to flirt with.”

Michael’s words alone stirs the butterflies in his stomach again, so Luke sucks down his shot despite the unpleasant taste. Both of them are too preoccupied to notice someone already approaching Luke from behind.

“Hey,” a low voice purrs in his ear. “How are you doing, beautiful?”

Luke whips around to find a tall, brunette guy leaning against the bar, sharp grey eyes on him. He flashes Luke an easy, flirty smile. Luke barely manages to nod and then he’s twisting around to look at Michael with wide eyes.

Michael only winks at him before sliding down from his chair. He walks further down the bar, to give Luke privacy he guesses. Though Luke _really_ doesn’t mind him staying. He’s so far out of his element right now, Michael would do a much better job talking for him. Luke’s never been much of a flirter. Cal’s pretty good at being smooth, especially when he’s been drinking, while Michael hooks people in by sexy smirks and seductive, lingering touches. It’s impressive to see them at work. Luke, on the other hand, can be funny when he’s comfortable enough—but there’s nothing _sexy_ about his food jokes.

But this _is_ what Luke came here for. He wants to know, finally, if he really is interested in guys. This is his chance to find out. So Luke turns around, meeting the brunette guy’s eyes again. He channels Calum’s slick, confident tone and drags his fingers slowly down the guy’s chest like he’s seen Michael do before. “Buy me a drink?” Luke whispers.

Over an hour later, Luke has lost track of Michael. He’s also well-past drunk, after downing every shot the cute guy bought for him. And all the shots the _other_ guys have gifted him with too. It didn’t take long for Luke to forget whatever he had been so nervous about. He’s having fun, losing himself in the thick cluster of sweaty, dancing bodies with music pounding in the air, thrumming against his skin.

One of the guys has Luke pressed against him, grinding their hips together in a hot, frantic rhythm. It feels good, so Luke lets him do whatever he wants. He leans his head back against the stranger’s shoulder, giggling wildly as the fourth—or fifth?—Blowjob shot he took makes him feel light and giddy.

The guy’s hands tighten their hold on Luke’s waist. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?” He murmurs, his breath warm on Luke’s neck. “Prettiest twink here.”

“’M not a twink.” Luke slurs.

His response is ignored as the guy starts kissing his neck. Or slobbering on it, really. All at once Luke becomes painfully aware that a total stranger has his hands on him, his tongue bathing his neck. “Stop.” Luke says. He squirms out of the guy’s grasp. Thankfully he’s too drunk to put up a fight, letting Luke stumble away.

Luke pushes out of the dancing crowd, breathing a sigh of relief when he makes it to the bar. He drops down onto one of the stools and wonders how the hell he’s going to find Michael now. Maybe he wasn’t even there anymore. Maybe he saw Luke laughing and dancing earlier and left, thinking he was having a good time. Luke _was_ , but now all he wants is to go home and get into bed.

Suddenly a hand slides its way up Luke’s thigh. His head snaps up, finding the owner of the hand to be a man with dyed platinum blonde hair, sticking to his sweaty forehead. The man smirks at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused. His touch gives Luke chills and he promptly shoves his hand off, frowning when the man laughs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He coos. His breath reeks of Scotch. “You got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he does.”

Another arm eases around Luke’s waist, though this one is familiar. “Mikey,” Luke breathes when he sees his best friend’s face. He leans into his chest gratefully, this time not being shy about inhaling his comforting scent. Michael is here. He’s safe.

Michael stares the blonde man down with a harsh glare until he backs up, returning to his own chair. Then Michael places a soft kiss on Luke’s cheek. “Ready to go, princess?”

Luke smiles, his stomach fluttering at the nickname. He laces his fingers with Michael’s as the boy helps down from the bar. Luke lets Michael lead them out of the club, feeling safe and protected tucked into the other boy’s side. Their security holds open the door for them when they reach the car and Luke eagerly climbs in, feeling the last of his muscles unclench their tension.

“You alright, Lukey?” Michael asks once they start driving back to the house. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“It’s okay,” Luke murmurs. He smiles at him sleepily, forcing his eyes not to close. “I had fun. And I learned Blowjobs taste really good.”

Michael bursts out laughing. He drops his forehead onto Luke’s shoulder as he laughs, which Luke absolutely loves when he does that. The only part he doesn’t like is when Michael pulls away, back to his own space. In his drunken state, Luke admits to himself that he never likes when Michael isn’t in his space. The older boy is clingy, but Luke has never minded it. Quite the opposite, actually.

The rest of the ride to the house is quiet. Michael helps Luke out of the car when they arrive, keeping his arm tucked around his hip as they slowly make it inside. They ease past the foyer and almost reach the hallway with the bedrooms before they’re busted. The lights suddenly switch on, making Luke wince at the abrupt brightness.

“Fuck me,” Michael mutters under his breath.

“What do we have here, Calum?” Ashton says loudly behind them.

“I see two drunk _traitors_ doing a walk of shame.” Calum answers, his voice sarcastically cheery. “How nice of them to exclude the rest of the band from their party!”

“Oh piss off!” Michael growls, finally turning around to face them. Luke almost giggles at the sight of Ashton and Calum glaring at them in identical poses, their arms crossed tightly over their chests. “We had private business to take care of! And nobody invited _us_ to hang with Feldy! You don’t see me crying about it.”

“ _Private business_?” Ashton squawks.

Calum’s eyes focus on Luke, who can only imagine how he looks hanging off Michael’s side. “Bro, how wasted are you?”

“He’s fine,” Michael snaps, holding Luke a little tighter. “We’re going to bed. Come on, Luke.”

They leave Ashton grumbling something behind them about their business being the band’s business and continue their journey to Luke’s room. Luke flops down on the bed the second they pass the threshold, feeling like he could melt into the mattress. Michael removes his shoes for him and then Luke finally gets under the warm covers. He blinks sleepily up at Michael where the boy stands over him, a small smile still on his lips.  

“Night, Lukey.” He says softly.

“Wait!” Luke grabs his arm before Michael can walk out. “I’m still a virgin, Mikey!” Luke whines, pouting up at him.

Michael snorts. “So sorry, babe.”

Luke feels his eyes closing without his permission and mumbles, “I _am_ your babe. And your princess.”

“Go to sleep, Luke.”

He hears Michael’s footsteps getting further and further away and then he’s asleep.

 

 ...

 

The morning after is hell on earth. Luke is forced out of sleep by his stomach’s sharp writhing. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he’s sick.

Thirty minutes and a few pills later, Luke moans into the sofa cushions. “I’m never drinking again. _Never_.”

A loud snicker makes Luke open his eyes, seeing Calum smirking back at him from his spot on the loveseat. His brown eyes are practically sparkling with amusement at Luke’s pain. “But you had so much _fun_ last night, didn’t you?”

Luke glares. “Could you be any less smug?”

Calum shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Nah, probably not.”

“ _Try_.” Luke growls before dropping back down miserably.

Sometime later Luke is prodded out of his sleep for the second time by a hand shaking his shoulder. He doesn’t move an inch, groaning until the person stops. “Luke,” Michael says. “Wake up. I got you something.”

Luke reluctantly sits up, rubbing his eyes as Michael takes a seat beside him. Unlike Luke who is only in his boxers, Michael is fully dressed and has one of Luke’s snapbacks thrown over his messy hair. Luke has no idea how his friend managed to get himself dressed, let alone go outside after last night. He still feels half-dead.

Michael opens up the plastic bag he’s holding, revealing a bottle of purple Gatorade, two bananas, and a stack of DVDs.

“Mikey.” Luke feels himself crack a small smile, a rush of fondness sweeping over him. “You got all this stuff for me?”

Michael grins, handing over the bottle. He knows purple Gatorade is the only thing Luke’s stomach can tolerate when he’s sick. “Can’t leave my boy feeling like shit, can I?”

Luke gratefully sucks down the drink as Michael wraps up the bananas for later. “Where are Ash and Cal? They get tired of gloating?”

“I wish.” Michael chuckles. “Ashton left this half-assed note and said they’d be back later. Who knows where they went now.”

“Cashton.” Luke grumbles, shaking his head in exasperation.

The other half of their band is forgotten for the afternoon. Michael puts in the DVDs he rented and they snuggle up on the sofa under Luke’s blanket. They’re halfway through _Superbad_ when Luke says quietly. “I did it, you know.”

“Hmm?” Michael turns his eyes to him curiously.

“Flirted with guys,” Luke explains. He shyly adds, “A lot of them, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael teases, laughing. “Did Lukey hook up with someone?”

“No,” Luke rolls his eyes jokingly. “I’m not gonna do that with a stranger.”

The smile gradually vanishes from Michael’s face, his stare turning serious. “Did it work, though? Like…do you know now?”

“Um, yeah.” Luke drops his eyes to the bottle in his hands. It should be easier now, but the words still feel sharp coming out of Luke’s mouth, like they don’t quite fit yet. “I like guys, Michael.” He swallows thickly. “A lot.”

“It’s okay.” Michael’s voice is soft, comforting even when Luke can’t look at him. “You’re gonna be okay, Luke.”

The back of his throat burns then and he feels even worse. There are so many worse things to deal with and here he is crying about being gay. Luke blinks quickly to chase the tears out of his eyes and looks up at Michael, watching him worriedly.

“What do I do now?” Luke asks, hearing how cracked and pathetic his voice sounds. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to _do_ anything.” Michael tells him firmly. “You don’t have to tell anyone, if you don’t want. It’s nobody’s fucking business.”

Luke looks at Michael and not the first time, feels overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by love for his best friend, always there to be the calm, protective rock that Luke can lean on. What Luke really loves about their friendship is that it’s a balance. Michael is strong and fierce whenever Luke needs it. He acts with tough love when everyone else coddles Luke. Michael’s honest with him even when it hurts to hear the truth, keeping each other grounded and sane after their lives have become so unpredictable. Luke knows he couldn’t have survived the past three years without him.

Luke prides himself on being there for Michael too, especially because the older boy never lets anyone see the vulnerable sides of him. Luke is the voice of reason when Michael’s insecurities became too much for him to handle on his own. He’s there to remind Michael how important and loved he is by their band and their fans, even if he doesn’t believe he deserves it. Luke is the caretaker of Michael’s broken heart, offering comfort when his best friend falls in and out of love again. Luke has become a certified expert at piecing Michael Clifford back together.

“You did though,” Luke says, clearing this throat. It doesn’t help the ache much. “You’re not…ashamed.”

Michael cuts him a dry look. “It took me _years_ to get here, Luke. It definitely wasn’t easy. I made stupid homo jokes like everyone else and was scared, too, of people judging me. Eventually I just got over it.”

Luke saw the change in him firsthand. It took some time, but Luke got to watch as Michael’s confidence grew over the past three years and he stopped caring so much about what people thought of him. Michael never made it a secret to the band—or anyone he met, really—that he is bisexual. Now though, he wears his sexuality as proudly as his vibrant hair colors, like it’s an integral part of who he is. And anyone who had a problem with it could fuck off.

Luke’s changed over the years, as they all have, but he’s not anywhere near close to Michael’s self-acceptance. He still cares deeply about what other people think, still wants everyone he meets to like him. Luke thinks his deepest fear is probably disappointing the people he loves.

“You’re brave.” Luke answers, allowing his admiration to creep into his voice. “That’s what it is, Michael. You have courage that I just…don’t.”

Michael startles him with a loud snort. “Are you kidding me, Luke Hemmings?” His tone is sharp, but Michael is still wearing a fond smile. “You want to talk about courage? _You’re_ the one that has gotten up in front of thousands of people to sing since you were _fifteen_. You might have cried after our first big show—”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Luke mutters sarcastically.

Michael rolls his eyes, continuing. “But you got better, got more confident. You just need to give yourself some time to get used to it. It won’t be scary forever.”

Luke feels a small smile curving his lips. “Thanks, Mikey.”

Michael looks back at him and Luke senses the shift right before the other boy smirks. They both realize how soppy this afternoon had become. “Whatever,” Michael mutters, turning back to the TV. “Save your next sexuality crisis for Ashton, okay? I’m not your fucking therapist.”

Luke rolls his eyes, settling back into the couch for their marathon. He spares Michael from calling him out on his lie. They both know Michael is the only one he’ll talk to about stuff like this. And neither of them would have it any other way.

 

 ...

 

Michael doesn’t bring up what they talked about around Ash or Cal. The purple-haired boy may push every other boundary when it comes to Luke, but there are some things left sacred. He leaves it to Luke to tell the others, when he’s ready.

The band spends the next week in and out of the studio. Luke always enjoys this part of their time in LA the best, making new music and getting to do it with some of their biggest idols. Today only Calum and Luke are needed for recording vocals, but Mike and Ashton tagged along anyway instead of staying home. Luke lounges on the couch inside the studio, waiting for his turn as he watches Cal through the glass.

Calum has been in there for a good twenty minutes, stuck on getting his part just right. Unlike Luke who quickly grows frustrated and embarrassed when he has to sing his part again and again in front of everyone, Calum is the picture of ease. He jokes around with their producer and makes silly faces at Luke from inside the booth, keeping the mood light. Luke wants to show his support, but his attention is helplessly drawn elsewhere again and again.

At the sound of Michael’s loud laugh, Luke’s eyes flick to the other side of the studio. Through a set of glass doors lies the small room where Michael and Ashton are waiting. They’re seated at the high black table with two young guys Luke only vaguely recognizes from some indie rock band. He has no idea _why_ they’re here or why one of them has his tattooed arm around Michael’s shoulder.

Luke’s ignores them the best he can, though their loud voices and laughter continually grate on his nerves. It’s another ten minutes before Calum is let out of the booth and they break for lunch. Ashton has their In and Out order waiting for them in the side room, so Luke can’t stay too mad at him.

Luke takes his bag gratefully while Ashton points to the two other guys at their table. “This is Owen and Patrick from Asylum. They’re recording just down the hall.”

Patrick is the one practically merged into Michael’s side. Luke can grudgingly admit the guy is attractive—if you’re into blondes with a septum piercing and tapers, at least.

“Hey, I think we saw you perform at Bamboozle last year.” Calum chimes in, sliding onto a seat. “Saints and Sinners, yeah?”

Owen answers him, engaging Ashton and Calum in a conversation about the lineup for last year. Luke doesn’t hear a word of it, too distracted by the freaking live show that is happening across the table. Michael and Patrick are having their own whispered conversation, as if everyone else doesn’t exist. Michael pulls out his phone to show him something and Patrick molds into his side again. Whatever is on the screen makes Patrick crack up while Michael is watching him, his lips quirked in a soft, secretive smile.

Luke remembers seeing that same smile on Michael’s face before, just last weekend as they visited the club. _“Harry. He took me here once when we were in L.A.”_  Luke’s appetite vanishes as he remembers—the coy, flirty smiles and shining heart-eyes that Luke has seen his best friend wear before. Luke watches Michael shamelessly flirt with Patrick in front of them and an old, burning pit reopens in his gut, flames of jealousy licking up his belly.

Luke hasn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since he had to watch a drunk Harry Styles bite playfully at Michael’s neck. Not since he lied awake in his hotel room on tour, staring at Michael’s empty bed, while he tried not to think of what his best friend was doing then. _Who_ he was doing then.

His mind is still swirling in the memory of 2013’s summer when Calum pinches his arm. “Fuck!” Luke yelps, more out of surprise than pain. He glares at his bandmate. “What, Calum?”

“Are you gonna eat your fries?” Calum asks with a pleading, wide smile. When Luke hands them over wordlessly, Calum’s dark eyes scrutinize him. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Fine.” Luke says flatly. His whole mood is soured and Luke feels even more frustrated now than he did then. He’s not a sixteen year old confused by too many feelings for his bandmate anymore. Michael shouldn’t have this much effect on him, not now. “I’m going back in.”

Luke pushes back from the table, ignoring his friend’s worried frown. “Luke, wait, what’s—”

“Just leave it alone, Calum.” Luke snaps. He steps back into the studio, sliding the glass doors shut behind him and blocking out the others’ voices.

The next few hours pass in a blur, most of which Luke gets to spend alone in the booth. The boys get out of the studio with just enough time to salvage the night. From the middle row Ashton and Calum bicker about their dinner options on their drive home. Much to his annoyance, Luke ends up in the back with Michael.

Luke sits as close as possible to the window, anger and frustration towards his friend still pounding in his blood. It’s unreasonable, probably, but Luke doesn’t care.

Michael is completely oblivious. He scoots across the back seat and misses the warning glare Luke shoots him as he snuggles into the younger boy’s side. “’M cold,” Michael says, smirking slightly at him. That’s Luke’s go-to line for cuddling with him, but Luke isn’t up for playing right then.

“It’s 100 degrees out.” Luke spits.

Michael pouts, but when he sees it’s doing nothing to Luke he moves back to his seat. Luke turns his head to the window, watching the city pass by under the orange glow of sunset. It’s almost soothing, until out of the corner of his eye he sees Michael texting someone.  Luke can’t stop himself from asking stiffly, “Is that Patrick?”

Michael glances over at him, his brows furrowed. “What?”

“Patrick,” Luke says tightly. “Are you texting him?”

Michael just stares at him. “No. I don’t even have his—” He stops suddenly, his eyes widening. “ _Oh._ You’re jealous!”

“What?” Luke snaps. He can feel his angry mask slipping as his cheeks burn as hot as the LA heat outside. “No I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are!” Michael laughs in delight at his realization. Luke’s never wanted to choke him so bad before. And then he shouts, “Lukey wants to get into Patrick’s pants!”

Luke’s mouth drops open in shock just as Calum twists around in his seat to stare at him. He’s grinning so wide that Luke doubts if this direction is better than Michael knowing the truth. “Is that what’s been up your ass today?” Calum asks wonderingly.

“I haven’t been like this all day,” Luke grumbles.

“Uh huh,” Calum argues. “Lucas has been a total bitch today. Right Ash?”

Now Ashton turns around to look at him too and Luke has never been so ready to go on a murdering spree. His bandmates are the _worst_ sometimes.

Ashton smiles at him, all attentive-big-brother. “Something wrong, Luke?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Luke says as calmly as he can. Which is pretty hard, when he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “ _I_ wasn’t the one attached to Patrick’s hip today.”

Thankfully his bandmates’ also have the attention span of squirrels and turn their focus on Michael. Luke is left alone to sulk in peace for the rest of the ride home.

Back at the house the boys each consume their weight in pizza and beer. They all end up sprawled across the living room, too sluggish from the beer to move to their beds. Luke feels more forgiving with the alcohol flooded in his system and crawls off the couch to where Michael is slumped on the floor. Calum cackles at Luke’s worm-crawl, which makes Luke laugh along until he collapses next to his friend.

Faintly he can hear Ashton whispering from the loveseat, but Luke’s attention is on Michael. _As always_ , a sober part of him thinks scornfully. Luke waves the voice away and shifts to lie on his side, facing the older boy. The ground is really uncomfortable and Luke feels three times more nauseous now, but he stays. This is important.

Michael’s lips twitch like he wants to smile at Luke, but he stops himself. “No wait,” Michael slurs, his voice uninhibitedly loud. “You were mean to me. Go away!” 

Calum laughs beyond them. He finds everything hilarious when intoxicated. Luke ignores him, pitching his voice low. He wants this conversation to be private—or as private as it can be in their band. “Sorry,” Luke murmurs. “I was mad, Mikey.”

Michael’s blinks his green eyes slowly, trying to make sense of what Luke is saying. “Why were you mad at me?”

Luke struggles in his drunk mind to say what he wants without revealing too much. There are still things he can’t say to Michael and Luke knows now, especially, isn’t the time. “You and that guy, Patrick. I just…didn’t like him.”

Michael frowns. He looks adorably confused. Loud and disoriented is his default drunk state. “I’m not fucking Patrick.”

“Good,” Luke responds before he can catch it.

Michael stares at him, his eyes bright and slightly glazed over. There’s a warm flush against his pale cheeks from the alcohol and Luke remembers, suddenly, the last time he and Michael were _this_ wasted together. It was New Year’s and they had just escaped from the party downstairs, stumbling into Luke’s room at the Hemmings house. Luke thought he looked pretty then too. He told Michael so and the older boy had kissed him.

Luke can still feel the imprint of Michael’s mouth pressed against his, his tongue brushing the roof of Luke’s mouth with the taste of whiskey and Irish cream. They made out against the door for what felt like hours before shouts of the midnight countdown brought them running downstairs.

They didn’t talk about it the next day or any time after, which Luke expected. By then he was an expert on not looking too closely at his friendship with Michael—not asking the questions he wasn’t ready to answer. It’s seemed better that way. Now he’s not so sure.

Luke rolls onto his back and pushes off the floor. He drags himself into the kitchen for water, not wanting to deal with the nasty hangover tomorrow. Before heading to his room to pass out, Luke sends one last glance at the living room. His eyes find Michael still curled on the floor, taking longer blinks as he fights sleep.

Luke has to fight himself then. His heart aches for things he shouldn’t want. Two years later and he doesn’t feel any older, feels just as young and helpless as he did then.

 

...

 

A rhythmic knocking on the doorframe forces Luke to look up from his guitar. Michael takes in the sight of him on the bed, barefoot and in a pair of Calum’s basketball shorts, with his old acoustic placed over his lap.

Luke smirks. He recognized the beat.  “Was that Famous Last Words?”

“Holy shit!” Michael laughs, stepping further into his room. “Yeah it was.” He invites himself onto the bed, sprawling back-first on the rumpled blanket, and looks up at Luke with wide eyes. Luke suspects he’s _supposed_ to look pitiful, but Mikey can never quite pull it off. “I’m so goddamn bored.”

Luke shrugs a shoulder, returning his eyes to the sheet music displayed on his laptop. “Weren’t you playing GTA?”

“Stuck.” He mumbles.

“Ash and Cal?”

“Fucking.” Michael says nastily.

He’s joking, but Luke’s fingers still fumble over the chord he was playing. His stomach feels as if it’s just fallen through the floor—the awful, plunging feeling that comes from big drops on rollarcoaster rides. And, apparently, when Michael mentions sex in front of him. Luke is used to blushing at his friend’s innuendos and raunchy sense of humor, but this is getting ridiculous.

Michael continues talking with no idea of the whirlwind he’s set off inside Luke’s chest. “Or whatever it is they do when they ditch us for the day. Exploring the land.” He rolls his eyes. “We’re bandmates with fucking Lewis and Clark.”

His heart is still racing when Michael looks to him, after he’s been silent for over a minute. Whatever expression is on his face causes Michael to frown and say, “Dude, I was just kidding. Ashton and Calum aren’t having secret sex.” 

“I _know_ that.” Luke snaps.

Michael keeps watching him, his frown deepening. After a moment Luke sighs. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Michael sits up and leans back on the wall. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been biting everyone’s head off.”

“It’s just this song.” Luke says and it sounds lame even to his own ears. “I’ve been working on it all day. I’m stuck too.”

Michael doesn’t believe him, not for a second. Yet for whatever reason he lets it go. Instead of calling him out, Michael says. “Hold on.”

He scales off the bed and walks out of his room. Luke doesn’t get the chance to process the sudden departure before Michael comes back, one of his own acoustic guitars tucked under his arm. He returns to the bed and settles the instrument across his thighs.

Luke feels a small, amused smile forming. “What are you doing?”

Michael nods his head at Luke’s laptop. “Helping you. I’ve got nothing else to do and you obviously need my kickass guitar skills right now, so.”

Luke scoffs, though inside he admits that Michael is the better guitarist out of the two of them. Probably one of the best Luke knows. “I’m stuck on this progression.” Luke explains. He angles the laptop so Michael can see.

Michael only studies the screen for about ten seconds before his fingers start strumming, effortlessly plucking the right notes that Luke has messed up over and over today.

“Fuck you.” Luke says with a laugh.

Michael laughs too, but stops playing to help Luke adjust his long fingers on the strings. Michael strums along with him on his own guitar until Luke gets it right. The play the whole song from its beginning with the rain splashing against the window outside as a soothing background noise.

Memories rise the back of Luke’s mind as they strum, of other songs and younger laughter, all wrapped up in Michael’s scent back home. Back when they used to play just for each other and could only dream of one day performing their own music for thousands of others. Even now, Luke sometimes can’t believe that they made it.

Once the song reaches its end, Luke gives Michael a warm smile. “I missed playing with you, like this.”

Michael’s fingers tug absently at the strings as he says quietly, “Music always made us feel better before. I hoped it would work now too.” He shrugs a bit self-consciously. “It sucks seeing you so down all the time. I prefer the normal Luke—chirpy, annoying little shit that you are.”

Luke doesn’t mind the insult, too touched by the rest of it. “Thanks Mike.”

Luke sets his guitar down on the floor and Michael does the same. Then he reaches out for the purple-haired boy’s hands, pulling Michael down beside him. There’s not much space left on the bed with both of them lying like this, but it just makes it easier for them to wrap around each other with practiced ease.

Luke’s hands slide around Michael’s waist, finding the small dip that he likes to rest on. Michael’s legs curl over his as they lay their heads against the pillow, mere inches between them. As Luke gazes into Michael’s pale green eyes he thinks he could probably find them among a million other faces.

They’re so familiar to Luke, but he still finds them beautiful. Especially the way they light up whenever Michael makes Luke laugh, the beam of pride and fondness that he has only for the blonde boy. All of him is beautiful really, even breathtaking at times. It feels dangerous to be thinking it now, but Luke doesn’t stop himself this time.  He has spent _years_ pretending and lying to himself; he can’t do it anymore.

He knows what he wants.

Luke kisses him, using his hold on Michael’s hip to slide closer to his warm body. He almost sighs out loud in relief, but manages to hold it back. It’s only been a few months since the last time, but to Luke it feels like he’s lived years in the desert without water. This one thing he tried so hard to convince himself he didn’t need is what brings life and electricity to his veins. Of course he needs Michael. Of course he does.

Michael doesn’t kiss him back. After a few moments his fingers coil on the back of Luke’s shirt and pulls their mouths apart. “Luke.”

It’s just his name but it has to power to force the truth out of him. Luke locks eyes with him again and whispers, “I want you to do it.”

“Do what?”

Luke’s cheeks warm. “Take my virginity.”

Michael bursts out laughing. It sounds off to Luke’s ears and he thinks some part of Michael knows it isn’t a joke. “Shut the fuck up,” Michael says through his giggles.

“I’m serious.” Luke says firmly.

Michael lets out a sigh and inches back, putting some space between them. It hurts, though Luke tries not to let it. “Look, I’m not gonna lecture you with that crap about waiting until you’re in love, but you should at least be _dating_ the person you do that with. I know it sucks, but you should wait, Luke. Save it for someone special or whatever.”

“You’re special,” Luke counters softly. “You’re my best friend and I trust you. I _want_ you to, Michael.”

Michael looks away from him, aiming his gaze at the door. His brows knit together as thoughts whirl through his mind. Luke can see he’s torn. He’s Michael, so he doesn’t want to say no to Luke and wants to help the blonde boy, no matter what his request is. But this is a line they haven’t crossed before. It’s one thing to kiss when they’re messing around or drunk or whatever excuse they used for that time during a Twitcam. This is so much bigger than that. Michael knows, as Luke does, that they will be tempting a very dangerous fire.

Michael turns back, meeting his eyes again, seeing the sincerity in them. Luke knows Michael better than anyone and he means it, wanting Michael to be the one. Maybe it should feel weird or ridiculous, wanting his bandmate to take his virginity, but it’s different with them. He and Michael have never been normal bandmates or even normal friends.

A glint flickers in Michael’s eye and then his arms are around Luke again, pulling him in. Luke eagerly wraps his arms around Michael’s back, moaning into the other boy’s hot, open mouth at the friction between their lips. If there’s one thing Luke has never been unsure of, it’s the chemistry between him and Michael—both the musical and the physical.

Michael rolls them over and kisses him so hard and deep Luke feels the pulse of it down to his fingertips. They’re really doing this. His heart starts to pound in earnest, sparks of anxiety igniting under his skin. If he stops to think about it Luke knows he’ll lose his nerve so instead he concentrates on getting Michael’s shirt off.

Michael breaks their kiss to smirk down at him and goes for Luke’s shirt next. They take turns stripping each other until Luke’s fingers linger on the waistband of Michael’s boxers, trembling too hard to move.

“Luke,” Michael starts.

He shakes his head. “Don’t stop. Mikey, please.”

Michael’s hands take his wrists, holding them steady in his grip. Luke has never seen his friend look as serious as he does then. “Tell me you’re sure. Just…we can’t undo this, Luke.”

Honestly, Luke’s never been as sure as he is now. He breaks free from Michael’s grasp, sliding his hands up the other boy’s warm, bare chest, smooth except for the soft hairs gathered in the center. Luke can feel Michael’s heart racing under his fingertips. He’s nervous too.

“I need you.” Luke whispers.

There’s a heavy pause as Michael seems almost stunned by his words. But at last it breaks and Michael pushes his own boxers down and kicks them to the floor.

Luke feels like such a nerd then, with the way his breath catches in his throat at seeing Michael fully naked. He can feel his face burning as he looks at Michael’s cock, swollen and flushed a dark pink to match Michael’s lips. This should definitely be the weird part—his bandmates’ hardened dick is sitting right in front of him. Instead, the pool of arousal in Luke’s stomach only grows hotter and he longs to taste Michael’s pretty cock in his mouth.

Once his boxers hit the floor, Michael is on him again, pushing all blowjob thoughts out of Luke’s head with heated, hungry kisses. He leaves Luke panting, tipping his head back against the pillows as Michael nibbles under his chin, dragging his wet, open lips down his neck and chest. Luke’s whole body shudders when Michael briefly licks at each of his nipples and then continues down. He slips Luke’s boxers off and spreads the younger boy’s naked legs before him.

Michael’s eyes flick up at him with a dirty gleam that turns Luke on even more. He squirms when Michael picks up his hard cock from where it laid against his stomach, heaving from the quick breaths he’s taking. Michael keeps his eyes locked on his even as his thumb rolls over the head of Luke’s dick, pressing suddenly into the slit with no mercy.

“Fuck,” Luke gasps.

A smug smirk parts Michael’s lips. His cockiness is ridiculously sexy, but then, everything about Michael is sexy right now. “Do you want me to suck your dick, Lukey?”

Luke can only make an incoherent sound in the back of his throat, his hips impatiently twitching on the bed from his need. He’s so turned on he might burst at the first touch of Michael’s mouth.

Michael pumps his hand over him in two quick strokes and taunts, “Tell me what you want, Luke.” His head sweeps down and he lightly kitten-licks over the tip. “My mouth?”

“Yes, yes!” Luke pants, lifting his head to weakly glare at Michael for his teasing. “Suck me off, Mikey, please.”

No sooner does he say the words before Michael’s mouth swallows down his cock. His full lips part as he slides down, letting his saliva coat over Luke’s dick. Luke’s back arches off the bed, a loud moan ripping through him at the incredible sensation.

Michael sucks harder with each bob of his head, stopping occasionally to flick his tongue over the slit and make Luke swear. Luke’s chest heaves with ragged breaths, watching through half-closed eyes as his friend gives him the best blowjob of his life. Michael’s _good_ at this, which isn’t really a surprise. He always knew his friend had experience, but Luke _really_ doesn’t want to dwell on the other dicks Michael has had in his mouth, not now, not ever.

“Oh my god.” Luke whimpers, his nails digging into the sheets when Michael suddenly deep-throats him.

Michael takes his whole cock in with ease, his eyes fluttering close like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. With his red lips wrapped around him and his pale cheeks tinged with color, Luke thinks he looks like an angel. Or rather, a gorgeous sex-vixen, sent to torment him.

Michael hums around him, tightening his throat, and Luke nearly loses it. It’s takes all his strength to stop himself from fucking his hips into Michael’s mouth.

“Fuck, Michael, stop!” Luke gasps, his voice strained. “I’m gonna come!”

Michael slides his mouth off of him slowly and blinks up at Luke, looking just as overwhelmed. His lips and chin glisten from the spit and Luke’s precome, which is so much hotter than it has any right to be. Michael wipes it off with his arm and smirks at Luke again.  “We’ve barely even started yet, babe. Are you sure you can handle it?”

As sexy as Michael’s confidence is, Luke hates being reminded of his inexperience. He decides to get back at the older boy. Luke wraps his legs around Michael’s waist, using his strength to pull him down on top of him. Michael gasps when his hard cock brushes over Luke’s stomach and it’s Luke’s turn to smirk.  

He arches up to reach Michael’s ear. “Fuck me, Clifford.”

Michael pulls back to look at him, eyes wide, and he kisses Luke again. Luke sucks Michael’s bottom lip into his mouth, greedy for anything the older boy can give him then. With a low whine, Michael breaks away, stopping before they can get too sidetracked and climbs off the bed. Luke immediately shivers at the loss of him and looks up at Michael questioningly.

The purple-haired boy rolls his eyes. “Do you have lube in here?”

“Oh.” Luke’s fogged brain takes a minute to catch up. “Um, yeah.”

He rolls on the bed, reaching for the bedside drawer to retrieve the small bottle. When he looks up he sees Michael holding his black jeans, fishing out a condom from his wallet.

“Classy.” Luke snickers.

Michael winks at him and drops his jeans back to the floor. He gets back on bed, setting the condom aside for now and reaches for the lube. Luke’s teeth nip at his bottom lip, watching Michael pop the bottle open. Before he goes any further however, Michael stops and looks at him.

The earlier, playful mood vanishes, taking Michael’s smirk with it. His expression softens and he crawls across the bed to Luke, the lube discarded somewhere by his feet. Michael braces his hands beside Luke’s head on the pillow and sinks down slowly, as if not to frighten him. His lips are gentle as he kisses Luke, brushing against him like it’s the first time.

Luke cups the back of his head as he kisses back, combing his fingers through the soft lilac strands. It’s the type of kiss that Luke always imagined one day having with someone—the kind that you hope never ends. The fact that it’s with Michael only reminds him of how safe he feels in the older boy’s arms.

Michael moves back just an inch or so, whispering. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared, Luke.”

Luke runs his thumb down Michael’s cheek and nods. “Okay.”

He lets Michael go to take the lube again, watching as he slicks one finger up. Michael uses his dry hand to tap on Luke’s thigh, nudging his legs apart. Michael gets in between them and presses his finger lightly against his hole. Luke shivers at the first touch, but gives him a nod to go ahead. Michael inches his finger in gradually, eyes sharp on Luke the whole time, and doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in.

Luke closes his eyes for a moment. He takes a shuddery breath and pauses, trying to get used to the feeling of Michael dragging his finger in and out—slow, strange, and yet somehow good.

“Mike.” Luke opens his eyes. “You can do more.”

Michael adds another, starts pushing the two of them faster. Luke moans, squirming a bit at the pleasurable stretch that follows Michael’s fingers. He reaches for Michael’s hip for something to hold on to, whining and digging his nails into the skin when Michael hits a good spot.

The other boy slips a third finger in and Luke’s hips start to move on their own, grinding down with each push in. Heavy pants escape his lips, every thought driving out of his head except this, right here. Michael gets his fingers in so deep that Luke could almost cry at how amazing it feels.

“Good, Lukey?” Michael asks, a chuckle in his voice. By then Luke is fucking himself on Michael’s fingers, chasing the pleasure with careless need. The older boy is quickly becoming an expert at getting Luke to lose control and damn him, he knows it. “You’re so fucking loud right now.”

“Don’t care,” Luke pants, breaking off to moan. “Oh, fuck, fuck!” His back arches, his lips parting in silent pleasure as Michael curves his fingers. His fingertips stroke over a certain spot and fire flares through Luke’s veins, making it impossible to speak for a few seconds. “Mic- _Michael_! I…I need…”

 _Need you_. Need more. Michael seems to understand him, pulling his fingers out. Luke gasps, trying to bring the air back into his lungs. His skin feels burning hot, his stomach coiled tight from hunger. Never has he needed anything as bad as he needs Michael inside him then.

Michael comes back, hovering on his hands above him. He touches his forehead briefly to Luke’s, giving him a chance to calm down. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Luke breaths softly. His hands rise from Michael’s hips, gliding up his back to hold on. He feels the butterflies awaken in his belly. Ready, yes, but still nervous and a bit scared about finally taking this step. Still, he wants to do this, wants to give himself to Michael. It feels right to be doing this with him. There’s no one else in the world Luke would ever want to be with right now. He hopes Michael feels the same.

The head of Michael’s cock grazes his entrance and Luke bites back his gasp. His eyes close as Michael slides inside him, inch by inch until his hips reach Luke’s ass, bottoming out. Luke’s mouth drops open at the feeling. Luke isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it’s so much more than Michael fingers. The aching stretch inside of him is there, but he also feels really full.

He can hear Michael’s quiet pants in the air, holding himself rigidly still as the younger boy adjusts. It takes a few moments for Luke to unclench the muscles he didn’t realize were clamped, practically squeezing Michael with his thighs. The uncomfortable feeling starts to pass and he opens his eyes, looking up into Michael’s green irises. Michael smiles at him comfortingly and Luke’s chest feels as full as the rest of his body.

“Kiss me.” Luke whispers.

Michael’s smile widens and he bends down, meeting Luke’s lips as he tips his head up. He’s distracted by the sweep of Michael’s tongue, the delicious slide of their lips together, slow and languid and deep. It’s then that Michael pulls his hips back and thrusts back in. The breath rushes out of Luke’s lungs and he makes a high-pitched whine into Michael’s mouth. No amount of prepping could have prepared him for _that_.

Michael goes again, starting up a smooth rhythm that has the heat in Luke’s gut sprouting, filling his bones with fiery pleasure. Luke breaks their kiss to drop his head back and moan. Michael takes his kisses down Luke’s neck, smearing his lips over his collarbone as he thrusts. He loses the ability to speak, can’t do anything but gasp and groan as Michael fucks into him harder, deeper.

His little noises seem to spur Michael on and the room echoes with the sound of skin slapping and Michael’s balls knocking into his ass. Luke loves it, more than he thought he would. Loves having Michael inside him, loves the friction between their sweat-slicked bodies, loves being _fucked_. He doesn’t want it to ever end.

His fingers claw at Michael’s back, pressing his face into the boy’s hot shoulder. His lips drag against the skin and he doesn’t recognize his own voice, high and broken, needing. “Amazing. You’re amazing!”

“Oh yeah?” Michael laughs. His voice is deep, a throaty tone that throws shivers down Luke’s back. “You like my cock in you, Luke?”

“Yes,” Luke whines. He sounds frantic and he doesn’t care. “Harder, Michael!”

Michael grunts and goes slower, switching to deep, forceful thrusts. Luke’s body rocks with each movement. “Shit,” Luke hisses. “Just like that.”

“That hard enough?” Michael taunts in his ear. “You want more, Lukey? Want me to fuck you into this mattress?”

His cocky, dirty talk is driving Luke crazy. Where the hell has _this_ version of Michael been hiding? What happened to his goofy, lovable nerd of a best friend? If this is what Michael is always like during sex, Luke doesn’t understand why anyone would let Michael go once they had him.

Luke can only nod, moaning louder when Michael picks up speed. His hips pistol into Luke in hard, smooth motions and the bed jostles beneath from his force. He’s so good that Luke almost hates it. He doesn’t need any experience to see Michael knows what he’s doing. Although right now Luke is too grateful for his fucking skills to worry about where they came from. Maybe later.

Luke tangles his fingers through the curling ends of Michael’s hair, feeling the sweat that’s gathered on his neck. The rest of his skin is glistening too, his dyed hair sticking to his face, plump lips dropped open as he pounds into him. Looking like something out of Luke’s dreams.

“You’re so hot,” Luke mumbles, the words spilling out on their own. “Fucking hot, Mikey.”

Michael just smirks. He shifts his hips, reaching for Luke’s legs to press closer into the blonde’s chest. Luke doesn’t understand what he’s doing, though the new angle feels good too. And then Michael’s cock hits a spot inside of him that literally makes Luke shout his name.

“Found it,” Michael sniggers, though he sounds just as breathless.

Michael fucks into the spot again and Luke arches up into him. He has no control over the noises he’s making then, the high desperate whines and shattered attempts at Michael’s name. His body writhes on the bed, squirming under Michael as the older boy pounds into his prostate again and again.

“Oh my god,” Luke cries. He feels his toes begin to curl. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

Michael nips his teeth at Luke’s neck, soothing over the bruise with his tongue. His voice is low and dirty against Luke’s skin. “You gonna come, Lukey? Do it. Come for me, baby.”

Michael’s words throw him over the edge. His body clenches around Michael, causing the other boy to swear loudly, his thrusts faltering. Luke squeezes his eyes shut, riding out the electric waves of his orgasm with breathless whimpers. His untouched cock shoots out onto his abdomen and chest, harder than he’s ever come before in his fucking life.

Michael fucks him through it for a few more seconds before he stills. He presses his face into Luke’s shoulder, a loud groan passing from his lips as his body jolts and he comes as well.

Luke isn’t sure how long they lay still joined like that, lost in a post-orgasm haze. Eventually Michael pulls out of him, making Luke hiss at the sudden loss. Michael whispers something to him, an apology he thinks, and then disappears from his line of sight. Luke closes his eyes for a little while, feeling both exhaustion and satisfaction swimming through his veins.

His eyes open as Michael returns, the bed dipping beneath him. Luke feels full of jelly, dazed as he watches Michael run a wet cloth over his stomach and chest, cleaning up the come. Luke can only give him a small, grateful smile. Michael tosses the cloth to the floor and then tugs the blanket over their bodies.

Once he’s settled on the pillow again, Luke turns his head towards him and giggles quietly. “Wow.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Hey!” Luke frowns. He musters the strength to pinch Michael on the arm. “You can’t make fun of me after sex!”

The older boy laughs a bit and leans over to kiss Luke’s cheek. “Sorry babe.”

It’s quiet for a while. Luke can feel Michael watching him. “Are you okay?” He whispers.

Luke smiles faintly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Luke holds out his hand and Michael takes it without teasing. Their linked hands laid on the small space between them. Luke falls asleep to Michael’s small, steady pulse beating against his palm.

 

...

 

When Luke wakes up the next morning, he immediately registers the emptiness of the bed. For one second he thinks he might still be dreaming, but when Luke opens his eyes he is completely alone in his room. The only evidence that someone else had been there at all is the lingering scent of Michael on the pillow.

All of his clothes were gone from the floor, his guitar probably returned to his room. Even the bottle of lube is no longer on the bed, set back in the nightstand’s drawer sometime in the night.

Luke sits up against the headboard, feeling absolutely lost. Why did Michael leave? Or better yet, _how_ could Michael leave after last night? Just the memories playing in his head makes Luke’s blood burn. But just as quickly, cold sorrow flows through him and cools the heat. Despite what happened the night before, Luke is alone now and it feels like his heart might break.

It’s only the loud voices and laughter of his bandmates downstairs that breaks Luke out of his sad trance. He forces himself to get out bed, wincing at the soreness from between his legs. He’s still naked from before, so Luke walks straight to the shower.

The hot water is like heaven on his sore muscles, but when Luke climbs out and dresses, there’s still a horrible ache lingering in his gut. He heads downstairs and into the kitchen, hoping if anything food will make him feel better. But when he walks in, his bandmates are all already there, seated at the long island counter.

His eyes land on Michael and Luke freezes to the spot. The purple-haired boy is laughing at whatever Calum is saying, one hand digging into the bowl of cereal before him. Luke feels a blush crawling up his neck at the sight of him. The hot, naked memories of the night before fill his head and all Luke can hear is Michael’s low voice saying, _Want me to fuck you into this mattress?_

It’s Ashton who notices him standing there staring.

“Hemmo!” Ashton cheers, grinning widely at him.

Luke forces a small smile in his direction and numbly walks over to the cabinet. His hands shake as he prepares himself a jam sandwich, but thankfully the others don’t notice. Today is Ash and Michael’s day for writing in the studio, which explains why Michael is up this early. Luke tells himself Michael just got up before Ashton could find him naked in Luke’s bed. But it still feels like a lie, no matter how many times he repeats it to himself.

Luke stays in the kitchen, watching silently as Ashton and Michael prepare to leave. He keeps waiting for something—a look from Michael, a sly touch on the shoulder, some kind of acknowledgement about last night. But it never comes. Michael barely even looks at him all morning, carrying on like it’s an ordinary day and they didn’t fuck in Luke’s room the very night before. What the hell?

Michael and Ashton leave with shouted goodbyes. Calum offers for Luke to join him on a run, but Luke declines. He opts for sitting out by the pool, sticking his feet in the water as the sun beats down. He plugs his headphones in and shuts the world out, passing the day by staring into the pool’s still water and blasting his favorite songs in his ears.

Luke _knows_ he didn’t dream the whole thing. There’s no faking that kind of realness or intensity. So why is Michael acting as if it never happened? Had Luke done something weird before he fell asleep? He certainly doesn’t remember asking Michael to act normal after this. There’s no way Luke can return to their normal friendship now. As confused as he is about everything else, Luke is sure Michael is always going to be the boy he lost his virginity to. And that means something to him.

Hours later, Luke realizes the others are back when Ashton suddenly rushes past him and catapults into the pool. He startles, ripping his headphones out of his ears. Small waves ripple against the edges of the pool and lap water up to Luke’s exposed knees.

“Suck on this, Irwini!” Calum shouts behind him.

Luke looks up just as Calum leaps over him and flips into the pool.

“What the fuck?” Michael laughs, walking up beside him. Luke involuntarily flinches at the sound of his voice. Unlike Calum and Ashton clad in their bathing suits, Michael is wearing the same clothes as this morning, only with his prized sunglasses over his eyes. “When did you become a ninja, Cal?”

Calum pops up from the water, slicking his hair back from his face. “I learned all my moves from—hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Luke halts from where he’d been trying to sneak back into the house. He doesn’t want to be around anyone right now. He feels like he can’t breathe with Michael beside him and he has no idea how to bring up what happened. He’s confused and hurt and suddenly, blindingly, furious.

“Inside.” Luke growls, shutting the conversation down. He throws one venomous glare at Michael over his shoulder before storming into the house.

He’s just made it into his room, throwing his iPod on his bed, when someone knocks on the door. “Luke?” Michael calls. “It’s me.”

Luke huffs and marches over, ripping the door open. Michael stares back at him cautiously. He knows damn well what Luke’s temper is like. “Can I come in?”

“What for?” Luke asks scathingly. “It’s not like there’s _anything_ we need to talk about!”

Michael at least looks guilty. “Luke,” he sighs.

Clenching his jaw, Luke steps back to let Michael in and shuts the door behind him. He faces the other boy with his piercing glare still in place. Underneath his anger, however, there’s a mess of emotions knotted in his chest. Looking into Michael’s eyes sets butterflies off in Luke’s stomach, remembering the passionate kissing and the way it felt to have Michael inside him.

“You left.” Luke starts flatly.

Michael nods. His fingers fiddle nervously with one of the bracelets around his wrist as he speaks. “I got up before Ash, went back into my room. I had this song I wanted to bring to the studio today. It’s not finished yet but Ashton said—”

“Are you really gonna do this?” Luke cuts him off sharply. He can feel the anger boiling within him, fueled by hurt. “Act like nothing happened?”

Michael meets his eyes head-on, expression caught between confused and apologetic. “What else am I supposed to do? I don’t get what you’re so pissed about, Luke.”

Luke almost shakes him. His temper flares as his throat burns with the threat of tears. “You had _sex_ with me!”

Michael’s eyes widen. “Because you asked me to! Damn it, Luke. I _knew_ this was going to happen. I knew you were going to regret it!”

“I don’t.” Luke whispers fiercely. “I don’t regret it, Michael.”

He didn’t regret anything. It was one of the best nights of his life. And that was where the problem lied, Luke realizes. Last night meant _everything_ to him. Luke can’t brush it away and forget about it. He wants it to happen again, but he also wants more than just sex. He wants _Michael_.

“Fuck,” Luke breathes. The realization hits him and rips the air out of his lungs. The world stops spinning, just for that second. Three years later and it suddenly makes sense.

“What?” Michael asks him. His frustration has faded, but he’s still watching Luke in concern.

Luke shakes his head, too stunned to speak.

“Luke? You’re kind of freaking me out.” Michael says with a weak laugh. “Are you…okay?”

Luke bites his lip and slowly his voice comes back to him. “I just need to be alone.” He turns away from Michael’s worried gaze with his big, stupidly pretty green eyes. He can’t look at him. “Going to bed.”

Michael doesn’t mention that it’s only 7 p.m. or try to resolve their fight. He just says, “Okay” and leaves the room quietly.

Luke falls back onto the bed, burying his face into his hands. He is so, _so_ fucked.

 

...

 

Luke is watching one of his favorite SpongeBob episodes in the living room when Ashton sits down in front of him. The house had been quiet for the past hour, so Luke assumed his bandmates were out. Ashton looks like he’s just got in, sunglasses tucked into his shirt and phone clutched in his hand. His hazel eyes are intent on Luke’s and the younger boy gets the impression this a conversation Ashton had been planning.

He cuts right to it, because he’s Ashton. “What’s going on with you and Michael?”

Luke isn’t surprised one of his bandmates noticed. The week that followed _that night_ had been uncomfortable for the whole band. Luke completely lost his ability to function around Michael. There was so much tension still simmering between them and Luke didn’t have a clue on how to address it.

He couldn’t talk to Michael without thinking about the older boy’s tongue in his mouth, so Luke avoided talking to him at all. At night his sleep is plagued by dreams of Michael fucking him, hard and deep or slowly, tenderly making love to him. He didn’t know which was worse.

In the moments Luke wasn’t distracted by sexual thoughts about his best friend, he was miserable. He remembers how Michael acted the morning after, like it meant nothing. That week he watches Michael flirt with guys at the studio and trade snapchats with Geordie back home and feels his heart break over and over. Luke fluctuated between snapping at Michael and being quiet and withdrawn. He feels horrible about worrying his best friends and pushing Michael away, but Luke doesn’t know what else to do.

Luke never expected this to happen. He only recently accepted the fact that he’d be dating guys, when he was ready. Now suddenly he’s ass backwards in love with Michael Clifford. Well, not suddenly. A part of him thinks he has _always_ felt this way about Michael. Maybe even since high school. Luke knows he had something special with Michael, before this. The way they shifted from being enemies to being practically inseparable in just a year probably said something. But it was how their dynamic worked—alternating from giving each other shit in public to having deep talks late into the night, a balance of playfulness and intimacy.

After having sex, it’s like his feelings were rushed to the surface and became impossible for him to ignore any longer. Evidently it’s impossible for everyone else to ignore too.

“We…” Luke starts slowly, unsure of what explanation is going to come out of his mouth. “It’s just that….there was something…”

It’s Calum that puts him out of his bumbling misery. He glides into the living room, rounding the sofa to stand beside Ashton and look down at him. “Is this about you being in love with Michael?”

Luke nearly chokes. “ _What_?”

Calum exchanges a look with Ashton that he doesn’t like. At all. _“_ You guys have been acting so weird lately,” Calum says, turning back at him. “I guessed one of you had figured it out.”

“Figured _what_ out?” Luke demands. Whatever patience he had for this conversation is dwindling rapidly. “What the hell are you talking about, Calum?”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Calum asks, snorting in disbelief. “You and Michael and the ridiculous love affair we’ve had to witness for the past three years. The cuddling, picking on each other like kindergarteners, acting like jealous idiots when one of you _dares_ to talk to someone else.” The dark haired boy throws his hands up in resignation. “Michael calls you _babe_ for fucks’ sake!”

“Ashton calls you that!” Luke argues, though the fire has definitely been doused in him. He can’t lie to them about this and they all know it.

Ashton smirks playfully. “We were making fun of you two!”

“And the kissing,” Calum adds with a pointed look. Luke feels the blood surge into his cheeks as his friend shakes his head. “What, did you think we were blind or something?”

Luke ignores that, pushing through his embarrassment. “You think Michael feels this way too?” He asks quietly.

Calum opens his mouth to add another sarcastic remark, but thankfully Ashton interrupts, his voice soft. “Did something happen, Luke?”

Luke can’t tell them. This whole thing is already a mess and Luke wants what happened between him and Michael to stay private, between them. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” Luke says instead.

Ashton frowns, still concerned, but gives him a nod. “Well, you two need to work out whatever it is. Before we start tour, definitely.”

Luke starts to agree but then he hears Michael’s voice behind him. “Hey! Are you fuckers have a band meeting _without_ me?”

“Yes.” Calum deadpans and Luke cracks a tiny smile.

Michael joins them and there’s an awkward pause that cloaks the whole room. He’s wearing a smile as well, but Luke can tell it’s forced as Michael keeps his gaze away from him.

“Come on, Cal.” Ashton chirps, grabbing their bassist’s arm. “Let’s go take a walk.”

Michael rolls his eyes at them and then they’re gone, disappearing out the front door. Luke peers up at the older boy, his heart thumping noisily in the silence. Michael looks gorgeous. He’s wearing the green flannel shirt that matches his eyes and his mouth looks so soft and pink, inviting.

Luke swallows the urge in him and murmurs. “Can we talk?”

Michael smiles. It’s hesitant, but this time genuine. “Yeah, sure.”

Luke stands up from the couch and Michael follows after him silently to Luke’s room. The whole way there his stomach is flip-flopping, but Luke knows he can’t turn back. Ashton is right. They need to do this, sooner rather than later.

Inside his room, Luke turns to face him, forcing the words out one after another. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird. This…isn’t your fault.”

Michael shakes his head. His face is shadowed with guilt. “Yeah it is. I knew it was a bad idea and I did it anyway. I should have told you no.”

Luke’s eyes widen. He reaches out for Michael’s hands before he realizes what he’s doing. “No, Michael. That’s not it. I told you I don’t regret anything that happened.”

“It was a mistake,” Michael continues, slipping his hands out of Luke’s.

 _Mistake_. The word cuts into Luke’s chest like a knife’s sharp stab. “How could you say that?” Luke whispers, his voice wavering.

“I fucked up our friendship.” Michael retorts heatedly. He’s seems angry at himself though. “You can’t even talk to me anymore!”

“That’s not it,” Luke repeats. There’s only one thing Luke can say to explain and he feels like he owes Michael the truth anyway. Owes it to both of them.

“I love you.” Luke whispers. He holds Michael’s gaze with purpose, watching as it slowly clicks into place. Luke means it differently than the times they’ve said it to each other in the past—means it _more_. Luke loves Michael more than he loves anything, deeper than he loves anyone else—an intense, take-the-breath-from-your-lungs kind of love that consumes every part of him. A love that could very possibly kill him, but Luke would happily die for it, because there is nothing more powerful than this feeling. And Luke needs Michael to understand that. “ _I love you_.”

It feels liberating to say the words out loud. But the release doesn’t last long, because now he has to wait for Michael’s reaction. Terror chases away the exhilaration as he stares at his best friend, his bandmate, the love of his life. Michael has to see it too; he has to.

“Michael…” Luke breathes when the silence becomes too much.

Michael looks back at him, blinking his pale green eyes slowly. “I…I don’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes closing briefly. Luke can see the tremble in his fingers and feels it in perfect time with his own pounding heart. “I don’t know what to say.”  

“I’m in love with you,” Luke whispers, his voice cracking. “You have to have _something_ to say!”

“I don’t know.” Michael responds, his lips twisting into a frown. He’s flustered and Luke hates seeing him upset, but he can’t stop it. He needs Michael’s answer. “Luke, you’re my—”

“Don’t say best friend!” Luke snaps, cutting him off. Tears sting hot behind his eyes and he has to blink fast to keep them away. His heart feels like it’s cracking open.

“You are!” Michael looks even more upset at seeing the tears in his eyes. “Please, Luke, don’t do this. I don’t want to hurt you!”

Luke looks away, clenching his eyes shut. This isn’t how this conversation is supposed to go. He’s so stupid, thinking just because he tells Michael he’s in love with him Michael will feel the same and everything will be _perfect_. The guilt and remorse on his best friend’s face tells him how wrong he is.

“You’re the last person I ever want to hurt, Lukey. I’m so sorry,” Michael pleads. “I had no idea you felt like this. I never would have…”

His self-pity quickly dissolves into anger. Luke cuts him off with a bitter laugh, snapping over to look at him again. “How could you not know? _Everyone_ knew how I felt, Michael!”

“I didn’t!” Michael shouts, his voice raising too. “Fuck, Luke, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I’d known that! I would never do that to you!”

“Why?” Luke demands tauntingly, provokingly. He already knows the answer but he still needs Michael to say it. “Because it didn’t mean anything to you? I was just another one of your friends you fucked around with?”

“That’s not true!” Michael yells, an angry flush coloring his cheeks.

Luke knows he should stop but he can’t. A dark part of him has taken over, needing to lash out, to scream and cut Michael down to pieces, make him hurt like he’s hurting Luke. And Luke knows exactly where to hit Michael to do the most damage.

“What difference does it make to you?” Luke spits back. “You’ll screw anyone that will let you! Just like me and Harry and Geordie and—”

“Fuck you.” Michael cuts him off, his voice like ice. Luke sees the pain flooded in his eyes and the shame slaps him in the face, stuns him silent. “I’m not sorry you can’t handle the fact I slept with people that aren’t _you_.” Michael swallows thickly. “Grow up.”

Michael storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. Luke collapses onto his knees, unable to hold it in any longer. The tears break free from his eyes and he sobs until his throat feels raw. He wants Michael to come back, but knows he doesn’t deserve for the older boy to ever speak to him again.

 

...

 

It’s déjà vu as Luke knocks on Michael’s door and waits. This time the anxiety he feels just might eat him alive. Almost a whole minute passes before Michael opens up, rubbing his eyes from the sleep Luke had interrupted. His purple hair is messily fluffed around his face, so adorable it makes Luke’s heart ache.

“Hi,” Luke says softly.

Michael blinks at him, his expressing turning guarded when he sees it’s Luke. It makes Luke feel sick that Michael would look at him like that, like he’s just waiting for Luke to snap at him again.

Eventually Michael nods back. He walks back into his room, leaving the door open for Luke to come inside. Relief sooths away some of his nerves. Luke had been so afraid of Michael slamming the door in his face. He steps in and meets Michael by his bed, though neither of them sit down. The air around them is smothering with tension. Luke can scarcely remember the last time he and Michael were this awkward around each other. Not since their first band practice.

Luke came over to apologize, but finds it hard to start. There’s so much he’s sorry for and yet a part of him is still afraid to open up to Michael again. It's taken him three days just to work up the courage for this. The wounds from Michael’s rejection haven’t even begun to heal. 

Then Michael whispers, “I’m sorry, Luke.”

Luke’s head snaps up to stare at him incredulously. “ _You’re_ sorry? I’m the one that acted like a brat. It wasn’t fair for me to throw that at you and it’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way.”

Michael’s lips curl up, the darkness clearing from his eyes. He's seen that look before, many times, but never has it been directed at him.  “But I do.”

Michael steps closer, drawing Luke into him carefully, as if he would ever refuse. Michael kisses him and although Luke is too stunned to respond, it’s somehow better than any of the kisses they’ve shared before. The gentle slide of Michael’s lips on his, the way his hand lovingly cups Luke’s neck and caresses his skin, fills Luke with a warm lightness he's never felt before. He can taste the promise Michael is giving him.

When he pulls back, Luke instantly murmurs. “I don’t understand.”

Michael keeps his hand cupped around him, slinking his fingers into Luke’s hair. He looks happy, matching the smile Luke can feel hesitantly growing on his face. “I needed time to think,” Michael explains. “You were different. You’ve always been different than everyone else, to me. I was so scared of what that meant.” He beams at Luke, so beautiful. “But I’m not anymore. I love you, Luke.”

It’s tender this time. Michael lays Luke back on his bed, kissing all over his skin with gentle precision, as if he’s something precious. Luke wraps himself around the older boy, still caught in his shock that this is really happening. He gazes into Michael's eyes and gets to see the love reflected back at him, worth waiting three whole years for. Make-up sex, Luke quickly learns, is also worth it. 

And now Luke doesn’t have to fight it anymore, doesn't have to hold himself back. He tells Michael again and again, as loud as he likes. “I love you. Love you so much.”

In between, Luke thinks about all the days he has to look forward to, with Michael. The stressful ones, the lazy ones, all the time they have to get to know each other this way. Their upcoming tour is definitely going to be interesting. He and Michael have never been good at keeping their hands to themselves before, he can just imagine how bad it’s going to be _now_.

But Luke tucks those thoughts away for later. They can figure all the complicated stuff out another time, like when Michael doesn’t have his hands on Luke’s dick.

“Look at me,” Michael orders, smirking up at Luke from his knees. “I wanna see you when you come… _boyfriend_.”

Out of all the petnames Michael’s used on him in the past, there’s no question on which becomes his favorite.

 

**Author's Note:**

> God bless you for reaching the end of this. This fic has become my baby, so please let me know if you enjoyed it. Now that it's done though, I can focus on finally updating No one does it better :-) 
> 
> *The "Ready to go, princess?" scene at the bar was used from a blurb rollercoastar wrote on tumblr. I owe credit to Jamie for her amazing idea that inspired this story*


End file.
